


The Queen

by Sheeana



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 1, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-14 23:59:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3430355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheeana/pseuds/Sheeana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the days after the war, Elisif tends to her people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Queen

"Your Highness, we beg of you. We've petitioned the Jarl, but the stone keeps the fear of the dragons out of Markarth," says the farmer, head bowed as she stands before Elisif in the reception hall of the Blue Palace. Her clothes are simple and travel-worn; the Reach is a long journey from Solitude. "As long as that dragon is around, our homes, our families are in danger."

Elisif turns her head, addresses her steward and her advisors. "Send a dozen guards to Karthwasten to root out this dragon. Inform Jarl Igmund that we will spare no expense in ensuring the safety of the people of the Reach."

"Your Highness," says Falk Firebeard, protesting as gently as he always has, "I know you have only the people's best interests at heart, but surely this is a situation the Jarl of the Reach can handle on his own." Hundreds of days have passed like this, since her husband's death. Her advisors instruct her, and she listens. She listens because she is only one person, and Skyrim is a vast, harsh, and unforgiving land, and she knows nothing of blood and steel. Tullius has guided her hand since she came to her husband's throne.

"… No," she says slowly. 

All of them, as if of one mind, look up sharply. They stare at her as if she has said something truly shocking. Perhaps she has. Perhaps she is not the woman she was when she first shed her mourning clothes and took Torygg's place.

She is a daughter of Skyrim as much as any of the rest of them. She was born beneath its skies and she will die with its ground beneath her feet. Its blood flows in her veins as much as it ever flowed in Torygg's, or Ulfric's. She survived the dragons, and the bitter war that tore her land apart. She will weather the years to come.

"But, your Highness-"

"You will send the guards," she says, keeping her voice clear, crisp like fresh snow and the winter air that comes down off the mountains when the wind blows in the right direction. "My people must be protected."

Her memories of her husband are colored by grief and fondness, and reflect little of what he truly was. She remembers him – kind, youthful, unmarked by the cruelties of the land he claimed to rule. Torygg was no High King of Skyrim. 

But she will be a High Queen.

  



End file.
